


Happy Ever After

by thedevilchicken



Category: Point Break (1991)
Genre: Bodhi Lives, Developing Relationship, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Post-Canon, Volunteering to Marry Condemned Criminal to Save Them from Punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29161641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: Johnny tracks Bodhi to Bells Beach and tries using an old law to punish them both - getting hitched keeps Bodhi out of jail, but it makes Johnny responsible for everything he does.He expects Bodhi to run again and he expects to chase him. But Bodhi's nothing if not unpredictable.
Relationships: Bodhi/Johnny Utah
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32
Collections: Shotgun Wedding Flash Exchange





	Happy Ever After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plastics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plastics/gifts).



There was no wedding, but it turns out you don't need a wedding to have a marriage. 

When Bodhi washed up on the beach in the middle of the fifty fucking year storm, he was breathing. Johnny had meant to walk away but since when had he been able to walk away from Bodhi? All he'd done from the start was keep on walking back again so he'd been the first one there, on his knees on the sand in the surf because he couldn't leave without knowing: was he dead or alive? And when he shoved him over onto his back, the son of a bitch wasn't only breathing. When Bodhi looked up at him, he was laughing his ass off. Honestly, Johnny wasn't sure what he felt most: relief or irritation. 

He remembers he had the paperwork in his jacket pocket. It was still raining almost as bad as he'd ever known it and he was on his knees in the goddamn ocean so it was no surprise at all that the paper was wet but even so, he pulled it out and he unfolded it and he stuck a pen into Bodhi's hand. When he told him, "Sign this," Bodhi frowned as his laugh faded out. And Johnny figured he'd say no, or ask what the hell it was he was meant to be signing, or just throw the pen out to sea, and maybe there'd be some bullshit talk about how signatures mean nothing, man, that some other guy than Johnny from the FBI might really buy. 

But he didn't launch the pen; he gave Johnny a look he wasn't sure he understood, turned onto his side and then he signed his name. And once Johnny had tucked pen and paper back inside his jacket, he started laughing, too. He laughed so goddamn hard he wound up stretched out on the sand there next to him, the two of them side by side again. 

"So, what did I just do?" Bodhi asked. He was lounging there just like they were back in LA with the sun in the sky and not so drenched in some Australian storm that they couldn't know where the rainwater ended and the seawater began. 

"You just married me, Bodhi," Johnny replied, with a wry smile on his face. "It was the only way I knew to keep your ass out of jail." 

And he guesses he expected Bodhi to protest, but all he did was nod and stretch out on his back again. Then he wrapped his wet fingers around Johnny's wet wrist, and that was that. 

They flew back to LA together as soon as the local cops could get them to a flight and out of their hair, handcuffed together because that was the deal. "You don't need those," Bodhi told him, when he put them on, and maybe it was just his sentimental side that got to him but Johnny was pretty sure that he believed him. That didn't change the fact he only took them off to use the restroom their whole way home; it wasn't till they were standing inside Johnny's place, taxi pulling away, door closed, that he fished out the key and let him loose. 

"So I'm meant to live with you now, is that it?" Bodhi asked, as he strolled around the place, glancing back over his shoulder now and then with the shitty too-dim lamplight making his eyes shine. "Can't we get a better place?"

"It's here or a federal prison," Johnny replied. 

Bodhi spread his arms wide. "Then I guess here will do fine," he said. Then he let himself drop backwards onto Johnny's bed. 

He'd meant to set up a cot, or find a blanket and shove him at the couch at least, but they slept in the same bed that night. And honestly, when Johnny woke up in the morning he half expected to find Bodhi gone - he couldn't make himself believe Bodhi thought this dumbass marriage meant Happy Ever After so much as Get Out of Jail Free. But Bodhi was there, cooking eggs in the kitchen. He'd stolen Johnny's wallet and headed out to the store, then he'd _come back again_.

"I'm not gonna assume this means I'm forgiven for all the shit that went down," Bodhi said, while they ate breakfast over coffee that somehow wasn't full of cyanide. 

"Good, 'cause you're not," Johnny replied, and Bodhi nodded like he maybe even got it, and maybe he even had regrets. 

"Yeah, I figured as much," he said. "But look, I swear I'm not gonna run."

All Johnny could think to say to that was, "Sure," and then he finished off his coffee, put on a suit and went to work. And no matter what Bodhi had said, he was still pretty surprised to find him still there when he got home. Every day, he's still surprised, just maybe he's surprised a little less. 

"So, did you do this 'cause you feel guilty?" Bodhi asked him, on the third day. 

Johnny shrugged. "I didn't do it 'cause I _don't_ ," he replied. 

"So, is this meant to punish me or you?" Bodhi asked him, on the sixth day. 

Johnny shrugged. "Maybe both," he replied. "There a problem with that?"

"So, am I your dirty little secret?" Bodhi asked him, on the tenth day. 

Johnny shrugged. "My boss had to give his approval," he replied. "My folks think I'm nuts. No, it's not a secret."

"So the guys at work know we're sharing a bed?"

"What if they did?" He leaned forward on his elbows, over his coffee and eggs. "It's not exactly like we're fucking."

"Do you want to?"

"I don't have time for this."

But later, when they went to bed, Bodhi slipped naked in between the sheets. The next night, so did Johnny, though Bodhi acted like he hadn't noticed. Then in the morning, Bodhi straddled Johnny's lap on his kitchen chair till the shitty legs all groaned with their weight and he kissed him, fingers in his hair, until he couldn't fucking breathe. Bodhi shoved one hand down Johnny's jeans and brought him off right then and there, and then they went out surfing. The weirdest part was how weird it didn't feel.

"You never asked, you know," Bodhi said, maybe three weeks later. They were lying naked in bed, sweaty, the sheet sticking to their skin, and when Bodhi's fingers brushed over Johnny's newly-softened cock, he cursed under his breath and made Bodhi laugh. 

"I never asked what?" 

Bodhi propped his head up on one hand to look down at him, all scruffy hair and a week's worth of beard. "That day on the beach," he said. "You never asked what it was like."

So Johnny trailed his fingertips down Bodhi's ribs and said, "Okay, what was it like?"

"Awesome. In the truest sense of the word, y'know?" He walked his fingers over Johnny's chest, right up to his collarbones. "I really thought I was gonna die." 

"And you were okay with that?"

"I thought I was, sure." He made a face. "Then I washed up on the beach and there _you_ were, Johnny Utah." 

And maybe Johnny laughed, and maybe Bodhi grinned, all teeth and that compulsive fucking charm, but he's pretty sure they both knew what he meant by that. 

It's been four years now. Every morning, they surf for an hour before Bodhi's ride comes by and takes him to his federally mandated community service program, like that shit can ever make up for the shit he did before, and Johnny goes to work. Every evening, Bodhi's there when he gets home, and maybe they eat in or eat out or they sit on the beach while it's getting dark and Bodhi slips his fingers around Johnny's wrist, like that means something to both of them. And Johnny knows if the Bureau ever tries to transfer him someplace without a beach, chances are he'll quit. 

You don't need a wedding so you can have a marriage, and they both know this marriage was meant to be punishment. Johnny made himself responsible under some stupid-ass old law that no one in the history of anything has ever known to work, so that if Bodhi ran he'd have to chase. But Bodhi's not running. He'll never be tame, hell no, but he's still right here, with a surfboard and a wetsuit and the ocean that all maybe make him feel like he's still free.

"You coming to bed?" Bodhi asks, leaning naked in the kitchen doorway wearing nothing but a smile, so Johnny leaves his paperwork and follows him. 

It was meant to be punishment, and maybe it's not _not_ : Johnny's still got a way to go before he can forgive him, and Bodhi's still got a way to go before he can forgive himself. 

And maybe it's not _Happy Ever After_ , but Johnny figures that it might be as close as two guys like them can get.


End file.
